Saving a Life
by racefortheendlessnothing
Summary: John Watson meets the Eleventh Doctor.


Saving a Life

_Muddy footprints… Roaring water. Hands grasping for control, for a lock onto some earth. The man in the long coat falling, falling. He is falling so fast, and yet so slowly, until he hits the water or the rocks; it is impossible to tell. I see this as if I'm in the air, flying above the scene, wanting to grab his hand. Wanting. Desire and love. Desi-_

"John! John, dear. It's time to wake up." The woman patted his cheek and left breakfast on top of the coffee table. John had fallen asleep on the couch again. "And remember, I'm only bringing you meals because you're having a rough time of it. I'm not your housekeeper."

John sat up, thanked Mrs. Hudson, and kindly showed her out. She was a lovely, but lonely, old woman. John limped toward the tray she had brought, picked it up with one hand, and took it into the kitchen. He sat down at the clean table and ate. Ever since the problem at Reichenbach Falls, John had been cleaning madly, desperate for something, anything, to do. There was a jar of eyes in the microwave, though, which he had no idea where to put.

After finishing his breakfast, he went to his bedroom and dressed himself. He didn't have anywhere he needed to be, but he wanted to investigate some crimes he had read about in the newspaper the previous night. He reached out for his cane, feeling its weight in his hand. He sighed. What had Sherlock told John about his leg? Oh right, it was only a psychosomatic problem. John grinned at the memory, even though his body, heart, soul continued to hurt. He walked out of the building to go to the mortuary.

* * *

><p>The doorbell ringed, surprising Mrs. Hudson. She was used to Sherlock telling her when it was about to ring. She was sad about his death, of course, but he was rather rude to her at times. She went to the door and opened it, greeting the newcomer. He was dressed most bizarrely and had a strangely pale face. <em>Maybe he's a vampire, <em>she thought_._ Mrs. Hudson knew those vampire books were silly fantasies but she couldn't help loving them. "How may I help you, dear?"

"Ah. Yes. I was wondering when you were going to stop staring at me like that." His brow seemed to furrow in confusion. "I just happened to be in the neighborhood and saw that you put in an ad for an open room in 221B. Here's some money." He handed her a rather light paper bag and walked inside. His tweed coat brushed against her. He looked at her very seriously, all of a sudden. "Yes, there's definitely something going on here. Something bad. Something so bad you would need a whale to swallow it. No. Make that two whales and a dolphin. No, that's rubbish. Just call it something very bad. Have you any tea?"

Mrs. Hudson was shocked at this manner of speaking and went to collect some tea for the strange guest. _Who wears a bowtie these days, really? _She couldn't help thinking. But she still somehow trusted him. She looked in the bag he had given her and was immediately outraged. She poured some tea out of the kettle into two small cups on a plate and went back to the man. "Excuse me, sir, but that flat costs more than five pounds."

"Ah, of course. I'm terribly sorry." He dug in the pockets of his jacket and then in his pants. He pulled out a small bag. "Here you are, then." He handed her a note for 1000 pounds. The old woman stared at it. "Is that alright? It says 1000 on it. I assume that's enough for a short stay."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know when these were ever used but they're definitely not in use these days."

He gave a small smile before turning around and saying "Alright. I'm going to need some jammie dodgers, please, and then I will get to work, and don't worry, Mrs. Hudson, I will get you your money." Her mouth opened, about to say something, and he went on, "Don't be so silly. I know your name from the advert."

"I think you better leave," Mrs. Hudson said very gravely. "If John came back and-"

"Ah! There's a John who lives here, then, but he's not here now, but he will come back and then he will be here. Yes. Quite interesting." She still looked puzzled. "It all has to do with him. Everything. The universe and space and time, all relying on the man who doesn't need the cane. No, that's a rubbish nickname. By the way, my name is the Doctor"

"Now, listen," Mrs. Hudson started. "I may not seem like it but I care for Mr. Watson very much, and _you have to leave._" The man smiled quite sadly at her. Her eyes looked into his, and what she saw surprised her. His eyes looked so old, as if they had seen everything there is to see. She also noted that he didn't look very much like a doctor. "If… if he comes here, and you do all that deduction stuff… I may not be too bright but I'm sure he'll be upset."

He raised his head slightly, similar to what Sherlock used to do, and said, "Now, Mrs. Hudson. Why would he be upset? And please. Tell me everything. Trust me. I'm the Doctor." Mrs. Hudson looked at him very closely. She felt that inexplicable feeling of trust toward this stranger.

"Alright, well, sit down now. I suppose it couldn't hurt, and I rarely have anyone to talk to these days." He took his tea off the small plate she had been holding and they both sat down. "Well, you see, John and Sherlock were very close friends. I always thought they were partners but John has always been adamant that they are only colleagues. Oh, my, I didn't even tell you who they really are. Well, Sherlock was a consulting detective, he solved crimes and was a genius and all, while John used to be an army doctor, but now he lives on pension. Oh, where was I?"

"You said 'was' in regard to Sherlock," interjected the Doctor. "Why is that?"

"I haven't finished, have I?" Mrs. Hudson said, reprimanding him slightly with a look. "So anyway, recently, Sherlock has been obsessed, yelling about some man called Moriarty. He kept going on about how he would find him, and John seemed to be agitated all the time, especially at this, until they finally decided to go on a trip to the continent together."

"Oh, together?" asked the Doctor.

"Oh, no, not like that. I mean, we all thought… but they were just very close friends. Anyway, I don't know what happened on that trip but John came back alone, and there was a funeral held for Sherlock, no body. John's been so lonely and sad ever since. Do you need more tea?"

The Doctor had been looking into his cup. "No, no. I'm good. I'm fine." He looked at the door. "I think he's almost back. Oh, I really should not see him yet. Anyway, thanks for the tea, Mrs. Hudson. Thanks for the room. I'll just leave now and be back in my room later." He kissed the air beside both of her cheeks and promptly left, doing a sort of skip on the way.

A minute later, the door opened again, and John walked in. "Who was that crazy man? He saw me and smiled, and then walked toward some alleyway."

"Oh, did he now? I… I'm not really sure. He seemed to be quite mad."

"Well, Mrs. Hudson. You probably shouldn't be letting madmen into the flats like that."

She smiled. "Yes, of course, dear. Would you like some lunch?"

"Oh, no, thank you. I'm still full from your delicious breakfast." He forcedly smiled and walked up the stairs. He sat down on the couch, putting his cane beside him, and thinking. He looked at his desk. He still had his army gun, but other than that, there were only papers on top of the desk. He picked up the gun, held it in his hand. All he really wanted since Sherlock's death was to cry but he couldn't. All he felt since the falling was numbness. To be quite blunt, he felt like he would never feel again; his heart hurt, not in the sad way that most people describe, but in a very real, painful manner. Not many people can honestly say their heart is broken but his really was.

He had been fingering the gun in his hand, thinking very seriously. Experimentally, he put the gun to his head, and a strange sound filled the room. _Madness in my last moments,_ he thought, _of course._ And then he saw it. A big, blue box materializing in the room, right beside his coffee table, just a few feet away from him. He continued holding the gun to the temple of his head, forgetting about it and watching the box finish materializing. After a few seconds, it became quite solid, and the strange noise ended. It said 'Police Box' at the top, and there was a small sign on the door that he couldn't read because suddenly the door opened to the inside of the box, some steam filing out, and then the strange man he had just seen, not even fifteen minutes ago, walked out of it.

"Hello," the man said, "I'm the Doctor. You're my new companion. Put that gun away. If you killed yourself, I would be very upset with the world, and you don't want that, now do you?" He smiled slightly threateningly, and John quickly put down the gun.

"Have I finally chewed the wrong end and gone mad?" John asked.

"No, of course you haven't. Or yes, if you please. I don't know. I'm mad. I'm a mad man with a box." He stepped onto the table to get around the box and sit in the armchair. He was wearing a tweed jacket and a bowtie.

"Okay… So, I'm not mad." John began. "But you must be some sort of magician? Did Mrs. Hudson arrange this? And what did you mean by companion? Because I'm not into that sort of thing. Sorry."

The Doctor smiled and very quickly said, "No. No. I always travel with a companion. It's much less lonely. I just want a mate." He smiled again, this time looking like John did a lot these days, the smile being forced and hiding his true sadness. John frowned and stared at the man. "Oh, you silly humans usually spend lots of time asking me questions so I should just get everything out of the way. I'm an 1100 year old Time Lord, this is my ship called the TARDIS, she stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space, oh, she's a beauty, isn't she? She can travel anywhere or anytime."

John stared at this doctor fellow as if he were a madman, _which,_ he thought, _I suppose he is. He admitted it himself._ "Why are you here?" John asked.

The Doctor looked thoughtful for a moment and said, "To save you, of course."

John looked down. "Yeah, well, you can find someone else, because I don't need saving." John continued looking down at his hands, moving his thumbs awkwardly, slightly scared of this newcomer. Then he had an idea. "You…" he swallowed, gulping. "You say that thing can travel in time?" His voice broke in the word time, sending it to a higher pitch.

The Doctor looked alarmed and frowned. "Some… points in time are fixed, John. You can't change anything about them except very small things or with a very clever trick that's almost impossible. I'm sorry, but Sherlock Holmes is dead. I know you loved him, and I'm sure he loved you, and I know it's hard. But you have to move on." The Doctor stared intently at John Watson, who was now staring back into the Doctor's eyes with a pleading look. "I am… so… sorry, John."

John looked down again. "We didn't love each other. I mean, not in the way you mean. We were friends. We were best friends. I… we balanced each other, as if we were meant to be flatmates, with our different problems. I never let him think we were friends. I always made sure it was only a work relationship." He looked up again, his eyes shining.

"I'm sure… he knew," the Doctor said quietly. He leaned over, and took John's hand in his own. "I am sure from the very depths of my two hearts that Sherlock Holmes knew you loved him. He deduced so much, so why should that evade him?" The Doctor smiled reassuringly, and John began to cry and the Doctor moved to the couch, and put his arm around John's shoulder, while John leaned into his chest and sobbed violently.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Hudson was sitting in her living room, eating a small lunch, when she heard some loud noises coming from upstairs. This didn't alarm her at all, since she had been used to Sherlock shooting and beating on things, and she figured John had plenty of things to be upset about.<p>

She finished eating and turned her telly on to the latest talk show. They were just bringing out someone who had lost weight by eating paper towels when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She looked around and saw John and the doctor man from earlier coming down the stairs. She stared at John. He looked like he had recently been crying, but now he looked rather happy, and then she stared at the Doctor. He was smiling. "How the hell did you get up there?" She continued looking at the Doctor.

"The TARDIS, of course. Anyway, Mrs. Hudson, I change my mind. The, erm, matter was taken care of much quicker than I realized it would be. Keep my money, though. I don't need it." He looked at her, still smiling. She stared back at him, confused, wondering what on earth a tardis could be.

"You say the matter's been taken care of? So the whales and sharks bad eating thing is gone? Or what did you say earlier? Oh, I can't remember exactly."

John looked back at the Doctor, having watched this exchange with amusement. "What is she talking about? Whales and sharks?"

The Doctor looked shyly back at him and then looked at Mrs. Hudson. "First off, it was two whales and a dolphin. And I 'm afraid I may have made a mistake. Dear old Sexy brought me here, and since she only ever takes me where people need saving from something, I assumed there would be some alien on the loose. I was wondering why Torchwood wouldn't just take care of it, but I decided to investigate, and voila, the big bad alien never existed, and I just had to save John." He smiled at the two of them, noticing their blank looks.

Mrs. Hudson looked at John, noticing his smile. He did look happier. She began to soften to the Doctor and realize what exactly could have happened upstairs. "I'm not really sure what's going on, but I see that Mr. Watson is happy now and that's all that's important."

The Doctor beamed at her and then looked at John. John looked back blankly and then remembered what he was supposed to do, saying, "Oh, yes. Quite right." Mrs. Hudson looked back at John, as he continued, "Mrs. Hudson, I'm afraid I may be gone for quite a long while. I'm going to go ahead and give you my rent for a year, just in case. I just want you to know that the Doctor and I have talked for a long time, and I will be safe with him and I will be happy."

Mrs. Hudson looked shocked. "Where did you get the money for all that rent? You can barely buy your own milk." She noticed John frown a bit when she said this.

John looked around for a bit and then again at the Doctor and said, "Well, actually, the Doctor had quite a lot of money, and he said he had no idea what to do with it, so I could give it to you."

The old lady smiled at the Doctor, and then the Doctor said, "Well! This has been a pleasant meeting, Mrs. Hudson. I'm sure I'll see you again someday. Meanwhile, John and I must go out and explore the universe. He needs some excitement in his life again, and I need a friend in mine. Good day to you, Mrs. Hudson." He walked over to her and did the strange kissing thing again, while John shyly stood back and sheepishly said goodbye.

The Doctor and John Watson walked upstairs to the TARDIS, and stepped into the strange blue box. John didn't know how the two of them would fit, and of course, he was amazed when he walked into it, saying "What the-. This is. It's bigger on the inside." The Doctor smiled at this, and stepped in after him, pushing the door shut. The light on top of the TARDIS shined on the room, the dirty coffee table, the empty armchair and the silent couch, with John's cane sitting beside it.


End file.
